


Leather and Flannel

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-23
Updated: 2005-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex goes shopping in Smallville.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather and Flannel

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely a Season-One Lex. Small town shopping tends to be... interesting.

Lex unloaded his armload of items on the counter, and waited for the clerk to come out of the backroom. He'd been wandering the store for the past fifteen minutes and hadn't been bothered by an employee the whole time. The small shops in Smallville certainly had their appeal.

Lex leaned over the counter, trying to look into the storeroom door. The clerk had stepped back there only a few moments ago; when he'd walked in, the young man had greeted him politely and then went back to his magazine. Lex checked his watch. If the clerk went on break, he'd have another ten minutes to kill.

Not wanting to go to another store, Lex decided to wait. He didn't have any pressing business to get to in the next few minutes. He had several free hours, which was good when it came to Smallville. It was difficult to do shopping in Smallville. There was no mall--a fact that Lex was eternally grateful for--but there was an entire downtown area lined with different shops. Each one had an eclectic collection of items for sale, often not duplicated in any other store. It took maneuvering and planning to purchase a few simple items such as air freshener and soap. Only a native could navigate the difficult merchandise terrain, but Lex enjoyed the challenge. He was quickly learning what stores held the exact items he needed to purchase. Soon he would have conquered downtown.

This particular store was like a New-Age dream wrapped up in farm-town decor. Homemade soaps, candles, blankets, more soaps, and more candles shared the shelves with incense, oils, and other smell-good, feel-good products. It was the only place in town that carried a certain herbal soap he'd become quite fond of; it was just sudsy enough, but not too fake-smelling. Using it gave Lex the short illusion that he could fit in within Smallville; the sage-like scent made his skin smell like fresh-cut grass and spring winds, destroying the expensive-cologne smell that seemed to follow him everywhere. He could get much more expensive soaps in Metropolis, but the simple item appealed to him.

What Lex really enjoyed about the place was all the smells. Just walking down an aisle filled his lungs with several warm, relaxing scents. It was a nice change from the industrial stench of the factory offices, or the stale nothingness of the castle rooms. Beside the cash register there was an entire wall filled with candles of different scents. Lex perused casually the wall, picking up random votives and sniffing their scents. Some of them were obviously hand-made, while one corner was devoted to a more popular company's sickening-sweet candles.

Near the center there were the room scents, the wax nibblets and cakes that could be melted on a wax burner. The names always amused Lex; how the same scent could be called by a half-dozen non-related names. Midnight Sonata. Lost At Sea. Voodoo. The ones that looked interesting, he picked up, able to recognize the scents despite their odd names. Midnight Sonata, a mix of a light musk and sandalwood. Lost At Sea, a mix of heavy musk, and sandalwood. Voodoo--Sandalwood, and musk.

The clerk was still absent--perhaps checking on the Porsche-eating sheep he keeps in the back. At the end of the room scents collection, there was a new display of wax waffles. They hadn't been there when Lex had visited last month. The little blocks of scented wax looked like an oversized Hershey bar. Lex picked one up at random and sniffed. It was black, like the other ones he'd been looking at.

Strange, he couldn't quite place it. He brought the plastic carton closer to his nose. It was...tingly. Tingly? A bit warm, but exciting. It was vaguely familiar, like he'd been around it before. Lex closed his eyes, and sniffed again. In his mind, he saw...flashing lights, bodies writhing and sweating, the sparkle of coloured liquids in glasses... A party?

/It's like there's a party in my nose, and everyone is invited./

Lex shook his head at the random thought, not sure where it had come from. But it was...partially accurate. The smell made him think of late nights, wild dancing, wrinkled clothing on the floor, and leather against his skin. Opening his eyes, Lex turned the carton and read its name.

Leather.

He smiled crookedly. How apt. Amazingly, the scent was named exactly as it smelled. Not that fake-leather scent, but how the idea of Leather should smell. Lex slipped it back down with the rest of the black cartons, tucking it down with a few taps of his finger. The last thing he needed right now was a reminder of the Good Ol' Days in Metropolis.

Beside the black waffles were a line of white ones. The two colours blended together nicely. It was a fuzzy-grey kind of white; not dirty, but warm and hazy. Lex turned it over in his fingers, not reading the name quite yet. His previous experience made him curious to see how the rest of the product line held out.

He brought the waffle to his nose, closed his eyes, and concentrated on the scent. He saw...

Blue eyes, darker than the sky behind them. Black hair like oil on leather, wet and dripping and laying just perfectly flat yet shaped around a face. Such a face--both strong and vulnerable. And worried.

Lex breathed in again.

A warm smile, perfect teeth that are perfectly natural and not from years of expensive dentistry. Eyes half-lidded and warm; "laughing eyes," if the phrase didn't conjure grotesque images. A warm flannel shoulder leaning against his side. A warm, whispered "Lex" in his ears...

Just...warmth.

Lex opened his eyes, and read the label. "Flannel." He sniffed it again, trying to dissect the scent. It was...not flowery, but not musky. Not like powder, but with that level of softness. It was like...it was...there were...

It was like a strong, friendly hug. It was like leaning his cheek against warm flannel, and feeling the strength beneath it.

It was like Clark.

Lex shook his head, his hand hovering over putting the waffle back. It was disconcerting, but not totally unexpected, to find that someone, somewhere made Clark-scented candle wax. This was, after all, Smallville. No doubt they realized what a commodity they had in Clark Kent and finally decided to market him. Perfect business sense. One sniff, and everyone would want a Clark in their living room. Lex lifted the waffle to his nose again, the edge of the plastic nudging his nose as he sniffed it again. And again. It was quite addictive...

Lex wondered why he hadn't thought of marketing Clark-scent. He'd have to get his people to look into that.

There was the noise of a clearing throat to his left. Looking over, Lex found the clerk had finally emerged from his cocoon and was looking warily at his pile of soap and personal hygiene products. "You, ah, going to just sniff that, or are you going to buy it?" the kid asked, nodding his head towards the waffle still laying under his nose.

Well, it would be rude to put it back after getting so close to the waffle. Anyways, the castle needed something to freshen up the rooms. Leaving the windows open did nothing to remove the empty smell, and Lex wasn't fond enough of his cologne to spritz it on everything. The waffle cakes were pleasant smelling, and it would be more aesthetic to use the candle-warmed wax burners instead of gaudy Yankee candles and Bayberry scent all over the place.

"I'll take all of these, and whatever you have in the back in the...Flannel scent." He looked around, and pointed at the elegant iron and glass wax burners. "And a dozen of those." The clerk blinked at him. The scent of the wax wafted in the air, and Lex added a polite "please" to the end of it.

The clerk disappeared behind the counter again, hopefully to return with the items Lex ordered. He lifted the wax cake to his nose again, letting the fresh, warm scent totally engulf his senses. It would be nice to have the castle filled with the "flannel" smell, like an oasis of normal within the strange, oppressive, dark empty of the rooms.

He picked up the six packages that were in the display rack and added them to his purchases on the counter. It was a sound investment; the pleasant smell would make his exile easier to bare, and perhaps make the place a little more of his own instead of his father's. No nevermind about the fact that it smelled exactly like Clark Kent. That had nothing to do with it. Well, just a little to do with it. Changing the atmosphere of the castle would make it a bit more Clark-friendly.

It would make Clark blend right in, as though he belonged in Lex's study. Exactly as it should be.

Lex sniffed the waffle again, his mind running over the elusive, yet seductive, scent. He looked back at the display. The black waffles had looked nice beside the white.

Leather would smell just perfect with Flannel.


End file.
